


Hands of an Expert

by SemaiHeya



Category: Samurai Warriors
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SemaiHeya/pseuds/SemaiHeya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's worn it countless times, and on every single occasion he was complimented for it. Now all he can do is lay it on his futon and stare at it, immersed in thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands of an Expert

He's worn it countless times, and on every single occasion he was complimented for it. Now all he can do is lay it on his futon and stare at it, immersed in thought.

He knows that the silk is extremely good quality - Nobunaga wouldn't have settled for less, for a present he gave Mitsuhide in the middle of a night of celebration, for all their retainers to see. However, the kimono was tailored for a slightly larger frame than Mitsuhide's own, and because of that, it has always hung a little too loose around the shoulders, the neckline a little too low, at least for Mitsuhide's modest and conservative tastes.

A slightly larger frame... now that Mitsuhide thought about it, it seemed just one more instance of his Lord expecting too much from him. Expecting him to give what Mitsuhide didn't, couldn't possibly have. Expecting him to be a person that he couldn't be.

Suddenly, Mitsuhide's brow becomes furrowed and tense, and his hand finds the knife at his side almost instinctively. Before he himself can realize it, the blade is tearing through the white silk, slashing the intricate pattern that was patiently woven by the hands of experts of creation and is now taken apart by equally expert hands, except they're experts of destruction, because that is what Nobunaga has shaped them into, through all the years those hands were in his. What a miserable life, side by side with the lies of power and fame, only ever learning how to destroy what nameless forces take so long to build! 

When his anger dissipates and the world comes back into focus, fragments of white silk are scattered all over the floor of Mitsuhide's room, and there is almost no indication that the fabric was ever made into a garment in the first place.

If someone ever asks - and Mitsuhide knows that Ranmaru will ask - he will say that the kimono was damaged accidentally, and he can already picture Nobunaga's indifferent gaze, as if the two samurai were exchanging idle remarks about the weather, and the disapproving glare he would get from the boy sitting at Nobunaga's side.

"If I may voice my opinion... I think you should take better care of Lord Nobunaga's presents, Lord Mitsuhide. That was a very fine kimono."

Nobunaga requests that Ranmaru stand down, but even as the boy falls obediently silent, his severe gaze remains on Mitsuhide, a voiceless reproach. And Mitsuhide realizes that the boy's eyes know the truth as well as if they had witnessed it.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick ficlet inspired by [this](http://www.fujiarts.com/cgi-bin/item.pl?item=284257), though I don't know for the life of me what the actual story behind that illustration is. I just came up with one and made it SW-verse.


End file.
